Starling's Salvation
by SquidbillyBritt
Summary: In the far future the colony of Starling is riddled with corruption and greed. If you control the Queen you win. But the one person who could control him never would, and those who tried have made a grievous error. The wrath of a Queen will be the least of their concern. *AU *AR *Olicity
1. Prologue

_This is unedited so forgive the mistakes! Still looking for a Beta. Let me know what y'all think of the idea! Next chapter up tomorrow or the next day!_

* * *

 _**Prologue**_

Starling was a special colony.

It was coveted above all other colonies, the leadership and forward progress of its salvation the story of legends.

When the Darhk Dynasty wreaked havoc among all of the world and separated civilization, it was Starling that brought the resistance out.

It was Starling that defeated Darhk and it was Starling that the world turned to in its time of need.

Once the dust had finally settled, and the key figures emerged from the rubble, the council was formally formed. The patriarch, The Queens, took the lead in leadership dedicating resources to shaping the world into what it was today.

Over time though the opinions of man once again clouded judgement, and what was once a harmonious rule turned to the darker ally of corruption and greed as Starlings prestige and wealth rose.

The public was none the wiser to the inner turmoil of Starling's Elite and the small few who had tried to right the wrongs were quickly dashed.

And life moved on, the Queens continued to rule, and no one was any wiser.

Or so they thought.

* * *

It was chaotic.

Even though he could never hear the noise he could feel the chaos down to his soul.

He could also never escape the scene that unfolded in front of him.

It was a tilted one, he was immobile on the ground, and she was screaming.

Her face is what chased him awake and it was the one detail he could never remember. He knew she was blonde. He knew she had the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen, and he knew she was crying out in her heartbreak. He could see it in the contortion of her expression, in the wet tear streaks running down her face.

They were dragging her away from him, two burly men on either side of her jerking body, their grip so tight he knew they would bruise her with their uncontrolled restraint.

At this point he could feel the desperation seeping in his own bones, his vision beginning to darken around the edges with the ominous warning and he knew this nightmare would have only one end.

It never changed.

He could see her calling out in frantic yells, focusing as hard as he could on what she was saying as his consciousness floated from his body. She repeated her mantra over and over again and with a chocking gasp he jerked awake. His heart was pounding too quickly, his limbs tingling, and his name a floating whisper in his burning ears.

" _Oliver_."


	2. Caution or Cowardice

All errors are my own! I still don't have a Beta, so if you're interested hit me up. Love the feedback from the last chapter and now it's time to get into the meat and potatoes! Chapter Text

 **Chapter 1: Caution or Cowardice**

* * *

The splash of cold water finally shook the last vestigial of the nightmare from his mind. He rubbed his eyes in exasperation before slamming his hands angrily on the marble that made up his bathroom counter top.

It was always the same dream.

The same damn dream that he could never remember in the morning.

If his father knew of his internal strife he'd personally see to it that Oliver saw a psychiatrist that second.

' _We can't have the future Queen anything other than sharp._ ' He could almost hear the deep baritone berating him. His frame rigid immobile in his mocking compassion.

His freak amnesia might have altered his memory since the accident, but his father's harsh ways were a sturdy constant in his life.

The accident.

Oliver lifted his eyes to the mirror in front of him, seeing what he always saw. Hard blue eyes, a scruff he couldn't part with, and an edge of danger to the tilt of his body. His stance unintentionally intimidating but a sharp promise to follow through. The shadows cast from his vanity creating a look of menace he was unfamiliar with.

He couldn't remember this version of himself.

He could almost taste a sense of wrong in the air.

Something was going on and it was behind his back. They were hiding something about his accident from him.

The more he thought of it, the further it alluded him, and the more it made his temper spike.

It was his own personal cat and mouse hell.

A knock on the door interrupting his musings.

"Yes?" Oliver clipped out over his shoulder while he straightened himself, pulling his smooth white button up over the expansion of his shoulders and swiftly securing the buttons.

The door opened quietly with equally quiet footing padding softly into his room.

"Sir, your car is ready to take you to Queen Consolidate." The voice was that of his bodyguard John Diggle. He remembered the man he was before his small memory loss and he had to admit even he'd changed.

' _It could just be time._ ' He reprimanded himself silently, reaching for the silk blue tie that echoed the blue he knew in his dream. He could admit to himself that he was more on edge since waking up in that hospital than he usually was. It wasn't unbelievable that the people around him wouldn't be different. It would have to be the answer he went with for now. His memory loss was probably just making him feel overtly suspicious.

"Thanks Diggle, I'll be right there," he said with a stiff nod while continuing to loop the silk around his neck, running his fingers along the whole length in thought. This color could be considered gaudy to most but he couldn't reach for any other hue.

He shook his head again. It was time to move on with his day.

It was, after all, his duty to his people.

* * *

The walk to his car was a brief one, though halfway down the grand stairs he saw the small head of his sister bounce into his line of vision. She rounded on him with a big smile, halting his descent with a quick "Ollie!" and a happy wave.

He stopped short, forcing a tight smile on his lips.

Thea had been probing him on his memory loss harder than his doctors at times, and he was sick of everyone talking about it. He wasn't an invalid and he didn't need people hovering around him.

Not to mention the pity he kept detecting in their tone of voice was starting to irritate him on a fundamental level.

"Thea I have to go, I'm already running late," he tried to gently sway, taking a step down and pushing her back a bit. She huffed with intent, crossing her arms and locking her legs as he brushed past her.

"Ollie, how are you feeling lately?" She asked suddenly, halting the man three already steps away.

Apparently she had to do one final inquisition before he left.

He turned with a lifted brow to look back at his sister.

"Why do you ask?" He retorted disinterestedly. He wouldn't play her games and he wouldn't make it any easier on her than he did anyone else, but standing there and watching her stony face he wondered briefly why she was pulling such a poker stance.

She rolled her shoulders and eyes with exaggerated emphasis, her gaze sharp when it re-met his. "Oh, you know, it just seems like you haven't been yourself lately." At his blank stare she continued, "You know, almost like you're miss-"

"Ms. Queen," a voice suddenly ended her tirade. She abruptly stiffened strait, looking down at Diggle with a finely arched brow. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he started, though Oliver could detect no remorse in the tone, "but your phone has been ringing and it says it's from a Mr.," he let the sentence and his hand clutching said phone dangle in the air for suspense, "Har-"

"Fine!" Thea tersely cut off, hopping down the stairs and past Oliver quickly. She snatched her phone from his dangling hand and paused for a moment before skittering off in the other direction.

Oliver felt his shackles rise.

It was for a moment, but he was a Queen, and he could read a moment.

It was there again, that silent communication that was happening behind his back. Almost as if Diggle could feel his eyes assessing him he looked up with a professional smile and stiff nod, motioning towards the opened door at his side. Oliver weighed his options for a tense moment before extending a small nod in the direction of his bodyguard and continuing his descent.

He would let this one go, the nightmare was still so fresh on his ever forgetful mind and he wouldn't put it past himself to still be over analyzing the situation. He has been accused of that a time of two before. His father always warred the line between caution and cowardice was a thin one.

And Oliver wasn't sure which line he was walking yet.

* * *

Queen Consolidate was located at the heart of Starling.

It wasn't always like that. Maps that pre-dated the Darhk Dynasty, ones that were made of parchment and preserved at some of the most heavily guarded museums now, showed of a time that Queen Consolidated was located further south. This was further backed up by the satellite laser analysis of the current grid that showed it was once a thriving and large land mass. A mass which was now occupied by sea water and man made islands built in the most innovative way to save the population and conserve the remaining land.

It was technology that QC came up with. Their Applied Science division had been renowned for single handedly saving countless lives and generations of families.

It was work that Oliver took seriously. He would have always taken it seriously for his people, but his father still saw it fit to drill the gravity of it in him since childhood.

It was lessons on lessons that Oliver would soon not forget.

He smirked at the irony.

Even when he loses his memory he would still never forget his upbringing.

As he steps from the Bentley he is greeted with morning pleasantries and half bows of gratitude.

It was always the bowing that got to him. Even as a child he had seen it as ridiculous. He understood as he grew older it originated as a form of respect, but Oliver preferred to be taken as an equal with his people. It was the masses that could make the difference, not the individuals.

The elevator to the executive suit was waiting for him as he stepped into the building, hearing not but seconds later his father's voice calling out to him from ahead.

"I hope you are prepared for the meeting. Apparently we have some exciting news from Applied Science again," he said once Oliver stepped in range, the both of them hopping on the elevator.

Oliver lifted his brow, looking at his father from the corner of his eye, "did you seriously wait for me to tell me that?" He questioned after the initial ding and accent to the suit. The smile his father gave him was the standard smile. The front for the public. Robert Queen.

"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling at the top of your performance. There can be no weakness son." He simply announces, the warning going noticed to Oliver. His father; father of the year.

"I'm fine, I was absent for over a month and I didn't even need to be for that long," he explained for what felt like the hundredth time. From his father's protest to Thea's silent scrutiny and his mother's exasperation he was getting decidedly sick of everyone treating him like he was a basket case. He'd lost his memory, not his mind.

"Yes well, in this case it's best to listen and catch up instead of speak," Robert cut in quickly, the tone one Oliver knew all too well.

"Of course," he muttered as his father stepped from the sliding doors once the elevator came to a halt, calling out for his secretary and fluidly walking towards the conference room. Robert Queen was nothing if not exceptional at dictating everything in his life. He was efficient at it in ways Oliver never wanted to be, but it was something Oliver could admire in his own way.

He followed after him a step later and seeing his assistant, Curtis, come scurrying in beside him, discretely slipping a black folder into the crook of his arm. "Here's everything you asked for that I could find, nothing sticks out but take notes today and I can run another analysis on it," the man managed to whisper out at a break neck gasp before shoving Oliver the rest of the way into the conference room and shutting the door with a soft click.

Oliver rolled his shoulders with an irritated grunt before taking his seat beside his father.

While he appreciated everything Curtis did for him, he'd already had the shoving discussion with him. He got way too amped up when Oliver asked him to do things like this. Things like this being the black folder nestled discreetly among all his other folders in his hand. Oliver couldn't explain it, but for some reason he trusted Curtis. It was probably because he was hired to be his assistant after his accident, but when Oliver had come to him with some big questions Curtis had heard him out and simply offered to help. Something about the simplicity led him to trust this man and he hadn't been disappointed yet. He supposed he could handle the occasional shove. This particular folder and task he'd asked of Curtis consisted of a highly illegal peak into some recent bank transactions of everyone in the room.

Oliver could never be faulted for not being thorough.

He had to know the truth, and lately that seemed to be a fleeting thing.

Robert stood and the soft murmuring from around the table stopped. "Thank you all for being here today," he began, "let us begin immediately and see what exciting news Applied Science had brought us," he finished with a gesture towards the three gentlemen standing in the center of the room.

The Director of Applied Science and Unitec Industries, Noah Kuttler, was surrounded by his two leading scientist from the division, their presentation board laid out with numbers and graphs that would shortly be explained. The board members all turned their attention to the presentation, the meeting finally beginning.

"We believe we have finally found a way to put every port in Starling on one grid that can control it all."

The silence that followed was a heavy one, all different emotions and murmurs going through the room.

Oliver didn't know what he was expecting when he was coming to this meeting, but this was not it. This was something never before attempted but always dreamed about. The fastest way to supply every need to every civilian under one beta operator.

He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about it, but the unsettling bubble of dread in his stomach was admittedly not a reaction he was expecting.

"And the beta?" Robert demanded, bringing the room back to focus, "What beta type would we use to control it all? We don't even have processors that could sustain that large of an output of power."

Oliver felt his heart thud in anticipation. He didn't know where the trepidation was coming from.

The Director smiled and nodded excitedly, "but that's just it! With a little more research we think well have that part! We've started a new project, re-focusing our attention to the processor because we believe the beta will easily be remedied once the processor is configured," Oliver didn't think he was about to like what was about to come out of this slimy man's mouth.

"We're pleased to officially announce Project Overwatch to the board!" He proclaimed with grand theatrics.

The pencil Oliver had in his hand suddenly snapped as a sharp ring popped in his ear.

He blinked his eyes opened, not realizing he had closed them and looked up, seeing every eye—to include his fathers—on him. Slowly he relaxed his hand, discreetly catching the pencil before anyone realized what he'd done.

Shit, he didn't even know what he'd just done.

"Oliver," his father said, looking at him measuredly.

"Sorry, I'm fine, just a migraine," he quickly fibbed, shaking it off with a smile and small nod of the head. "Please continue," he directed with a nod, choosing to tune them out as they began diving in about the cinematics of Overwatch.

 _Overwatch_

He took his pen from his inner pocket, discretely writing it on the side of random paper and folding it over. He would look into whatever that was later. That or he could ask now.

"I'd like to come by the laboratory and see the progress for myself if you don't mind." Oliver interrupted, his head tilted in question, not missing the subtle hesitation of the Director, nor the way his eyes skirted to his father first for permission. A question? Oliver didn't know, but he didn't like it.

Now he really wanted to go to that lab.

"Of course! We can tour it together soon," his father said before the Director could answer.

Curtis slipped into the room at this moment, sliding up to Oliver and passing a memo to him.

It was blank, but no one here knew that.

It was his standard protocol.

"I'll need to take care of this," Oliver gestured with the memo, standing swiftly not waiting for his father's approval. He knew from this point on it was just the standard water-cooler talk, and Oliver had other things to do today.

He walked to the end of the hall and slipped into his cabinet. It was in the back corner, per his request. He knew he had to be on this floor but he'd be as far from all the politics for as long as he could. Besides, he had some bank records to look over. He walked to the massive oak desk and around to the large forest green chair in grand display before his laptop. He sat with a little more irritation than totally professional, and swung his chair around, facing towards the closed door and seeing the silhouette of his ever faithful bodyguard Diggle.

With a sigh he reached forward and booted his laptop on. It came on quickly and just as quickly freezes.

Oliver stared at the machine for a moment, pressing the power button and forcing it off before powering it back on.

He felt his irritation tick as it takes longer than it should to re-boot.

It seemed that nothing could go his way on his day back. He sighed deeply and sat back in his chair, watching the slow progress of the screen in front of him.

The screen flicked before going black and the master command opened on his computer.

"What the hell," he mumbled under his breath, leaning forward and watching his computer intently now. It was almost as if it was running in fast-forward, flipping erratically through command prompt after command prompt until finally the screen went black and three haunting white words stared back at him.

 _Don't trust them_

He jumped from the computer like it had burnt him, feeling the spike of adrenaline honing his senses to a sharp point.

He must have toppled his chair and crashed it into something because the next second Diggle was through his previously closed door surveying the area with a tactical edge, his gun at the ready in case the crash was from something else. Oliver could feel the man's eyes on his face, but he wasn't ready to look away from the screen.

What had just happened?

Trust _who_?

With these questions reeling through his head he quickly realized a real answer, he'd been _hacked_! That supposed to be impossible on his computer as well as every royal computer, and for good reasons.

For reasons like this.

Someone was playing mind games with him.

Anger quickly replaced his foreboding dread. Anger was always easier to handle.

Oliver reached over and swiftly slammed the computer shut, picking it up like it was garbage and walking towards Diggle, outstretching his hand towards the man with a tense, "someone hacked me!"

Diggle holstered his gun and stood straighter, arching a brow at the angry Queen in front of him.

"I'm sorry sir?" He asked him.

Oliver shook the laptop like it offended him.

"Someone hacked into my computer! Take it and do a security check on it," he finished more professionally, gesturing towards the laptop held out to the man.

In the next second the air had changed.

Oliver could feel it again as he watched Diggle look from his outreached hand and then his own. For a second longer Diggle just stared at him before slowly reaching out, and taking a hold of the machine by the opposite corner, his eyes saying something Oliver couldn't hear.

In a blink, the second was gone, and Oliver felt the laptop leave his fingers as Diggle swiftly agreed. He turned and left his office just as abruptly as he'd entered.

Oliver stared at his hand, still hovering where it was previously holding the laptop, that unknown knot forming in his stomach again.

 _What was going on?_

He could feel the beginning pressure of a real headache starting up behind his eyes.

Maybe it was time for him to really go see a doctor.


	3. Applied Science

All mistakes are my own, and if you're concerned that Oliver is OOC don't worry, that should be remedied here soon!

 **Chapter Two: Applied Science**

* * *

The trip to the doctor happened sooner rather than later for Oliver.

After long day at QC coupled with the hard eye his father kept shooting at him, Oliver decided to give the family physician a call. While he was normally one to tough out an ailment, this one was more of a strategic move. Robert Queen would micromanage him on an insufferable level if he thought Oliver was unable to perform a task. Surprisingly it didn't take a lot for his father to think he couldn't perform an assignment.

Oliver was just glad that his future stature among Starling allowed him the luxury of a family doctor that made house calls. That's where he found himself early the next morning, sitting in the formal gathering room while Dr. Henley flipped through his chart, occasionally noting things rapidly while he rattled the standard series of medical questions to Oliver.

"And where is the severity of your pain coming from when you have these headaches?" He asked as he placed the medical chart to the side and stepped up to Oliver.

"Do you mind?" He gestured with his hands, the question more of a statement to Oliver.

"Go ahead," he muttered to the doctor, trying not to tense as he slipped his fingers along the parietal ridge and temple to feel for any knots, Oliver assumed. It helped that the doctor was a slip of a man. He had the kind of frame that age took inches with, and Oliver wondered not for the first time how long he'd known Robert. This man looked old enough to have tended his grandfather.

When he withdrew his hands from his face Oliver felt marginally better, sitting up straighter from his seat and putting a bigger gap between the two. While he trusted the doctor on a professional level he still felt the deep thrumming of unease. It might have been from his father's unusual elation that he was getting a checkup, or the way the doctor kept jotting his notes so privately, but Oliver still felt the quiet warning to be keenly aware of everyone since that weird hack.

As much as he wanted to trust that nothing was going on he still needed to keep his wits about him. He was beginning to feel a little unstable, and not for the first time since he'd woken with a chunk of his past missing.

Oliver really needed to stop letting something so simple get to him.

But even as he established this thought he could feel his eyes flicker to the opened chart on the small side table, trying to decipher anything he could from his angle. He felt the smallest furrow in his brow twitch as the words, _subject_ and _positive results_ popped up and just as he was translating what he was reading the folder was quickly tossed closed. Oliver looked up sharply to see the doctor pick the folder up quickly and shuffle it into his bag.

Dr. Henley turned towards Oliver with a small clearing of his throat, pulling the stethoscope up and off his shoulders.

"Well there's nothing abnormal from what I can tell going on. It could simply be continual pain due to the recovery process," he placated quickly, a small smile slipping onto his face. "However, that's no reason to suffer in pain! So I'm going to prescribe you Turbiprofen and check back in a couple of weeks to see if that's helped with things. If it doesn't then we can bring you in for some simple scans and see if there's a bigger issue at hand." He continued to Oliver, turning and storing his stethoscope in his bag while pulling out a bottle of pills seamlessly before he began writing the appropriate directions on the label.

He turned back quickly and handed the bottle out to Oliver.

"I know that this is just another pill to add to the mix, but I'm confident that it should only have to be that way for a short while."

The pills in question were the ones Oliver had been prescribed since he'd woken up. They had also been consequentially flushed the moment he came home. This was information his doctor didn't need to know about though and Oliver was mum to tell him.

As much as the illusion of privacy was allotted to him, the one he knew wasn't was his health, and Oliver wasn't foolish enough to believe that this doctor didn't have his own orders.

Orders that came from his father.

He would give the medication a try, but once he felt fine he would probably flush them too.

That had nothing to do with his current paranoia and more to do with his natural obstinate nature.

"Thanks," Oliver conceded while taking the bottle from the doctor. As much as he didn't want to trust him he knew the man wouldn't give him anything that would hurt him.

"I'll be off then, and if you have any questions don't hesitate to call!" Dr. Henley concluded decisively, quickly clicking his bag closed and seeing himself out with a flurry of motions that bordered on suspicious.

Before he could reach the door Oliver called out, giving into the small voice of whispering doubt.

"Hey, Dr. Henley could I see my chart?" He kept his tone light, watching as the man continued to dart out the door with a small wave.

"Of course Mr. Queen! My people will have it delivered to your people!" And with that the slip of a man was gone.

The doubt was now a small roar.

* * *

' _They look different,_ ' Oliver mused as he looked at the innocuous bottle of pills later that day.

After he'd composed himself from the visit and re-analyzed every gesture and word exchanged he'd gone to his bathroom cabinet, retrieving the small stash that still remained in the other bottles. Some he knew the names of and some he didn't, but they all looked different. Many of them were even jelly pills, compared to the powered ones, and the more he looked at all the different shapes and sizes the more he began to feel foolish.

He had to remind himself that his doctor wasn't trying to poison him.

"What the hell is wrong with me," he growled under his breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair and clenching his fist to prevent himself from scattering the colognes and breakables from his counter top.

He was definitely starting to feel crazy.

Luckily the sound of his phone chiming from his pocket pulled him from his whirling thoughts and without looking he answered briskly.

"What?"

There was hitched silence before Curtis' voice sounded and Oliver felt a bit of remorse for snapping at the man. "Mr. Queen! I'm sorry if it's a bad time," Curtis mollified, and luckily Oliver could tell the man took no offense to his tone, "Ms. Rochev just called to inform you of a tour with you father and Applied Science that was apparently scheduled this morning." He finished quickly.

It was just _great_ knowing Ms. Rochev was back in town. She was his father's full time secretary and a viper in every sense of the word to Oliver.

To say they had a rocky relationship was an exaggeration, and she loved to break bad news to Oliver. He was pretty sure that was her favorite part of the job.

Oliver could hear the hesitation in Curtis' voice then. "And when is it?" Oliver asked slowly, knowing already he wouldn't like this.

"In an hour." Curtis rushed out, pointedly ignoring the sharp swearing in response.

"He's doing this on purpose." Oliver bit out, knowing that his father was playing a game with him, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out to what end.

Why didn't his father want him at the Applied Science building?

He quickly glanced at his watch. Robert probably thought he would still be in the meeting with the doctor and would miss the message, but since he was home he just happened to be closer to the laboratory.

Decision made Oliver straightened.

"I'll be there." He quickly assured Curtis while promptly ending the call. He grabbed the small bottle just given to him and quickly pushed it into his ridding jacket before rushing through the house and grabbing a set of his favorite keys.

He'd take his bike since his father wanted to play.

And he was going to see why his father wanted to keep him out.

* * *

Oliver smirked broadly under his helmet at the look that crossed Roberts face when he caught sight of him pulling up on the Ducati he so loved. Oliver defiantly released the kickstand and stood from the bike, pulling the helmet from his head and hooking it over the handle in blatant arrogance.

"Sorry Dad, I just got the call from my assistant of my scheduled tour, and I would hate to have been late," He smiled cordially, though he didn't show teeth. The men standing around Robert looked uncomfortably from one another to his father, trying to figure out what to do, Oliver assumed.

Robert smiled suddenly as if he had not a care in the world, patting Oliver on the back and pushing him towards the entrance of the building. The others quickly fell behind, muttering among themselves in hushed tones.

"Oliver, so good you could make it, we we're concerned that your schedule would be too busy, I'm glad you've made time." Robert declared rowdily, and Oliver knew it was all for a farce. He couldn't tell if it was his dad's lack of trust in his capability to handle Project Overwatch or something else entirely.

"This project is my first in a while, and an important one," Oliver began as he rolled his dad's hands from his shoulders. It was one of the subtle moves Robert loved to do on Oliver to belittle him and he couldn't stand when he did it in the office setting. To add insult to injury his dad knew how much he hated it.

"I wouldn't want to miss my first tour." Even as he said the words though a sense of déjà vu hit him, and if it weren't for the eyes he knew were always watching him he would have paused just to stop and look around.

It was an eerie feeling, one that felt like you were taking a breath of air that was charged with a powerful static. It made his heart pound heavily, that familiar pit starting in his stomach.

It felt like a premonition.

Once they walked into the main lobby they were greeted by Director Kuttler who held his hands out happily, a broad smile on his face.

"Mr. Queen! We're so glad you and your son have a chance to tour Applied Science! We'd love to get to show you what we're working on and our progress with Overwatch." He rattled on excitedly and Oliver felt himself nodding along with his father.

He was interested to see too. This new technology could unite their colony in ways that they never thought possible, and if Overwatch proved to be everything it was supposed to be it would catapult them into a new era.

It was a lot to add up to, and Oliver respectively held his doubt.

While he was curious on the whole concept his father was noticeably more excited. It was strange to see that genuine enthusiasm in his eyes and it made Oliver wonder what else he knew of Overwatch than what was disclosed to him. It wouldn't be the first time and Oliver knew it wouldn't be the last, but he wished that he would at least tell him when it was something of this magnitude.

Maybe they really were close to launching into the new era. Maybe Overwatch really was something to be excited and ready about, but Oliver still held his reservations. He couldn't deny that he was more eager now to see what was brewing in the labs and how far they'd come.

"Director Kuttler, I wouldn't miss something like this for the world." Robert greeted with a smile and firm shake of hands.

Kuttler turned to Oliver with a smile and held his hand out, shaking quickly and then gesturing towards the locked double doors ahead of them. "If you could please follow me, I can show you where the Overwatch research is primarily being done and the progress we've made."

"By all means," Robert instructed, letting the man walk them down the corridor and talking about their top of the line security system.

The Director led the small group through the expansive double doors, and Oliver was surprised when his eyes had to quickly adjust to the sudden change in lighting. The area was mostly dark, making corners easy to lurk in, while the walls were made up of glass panels that ran along the borders and rooms. Blue led lights and soft white lights lined through the occasional cord and lit the walkways in a soft whimsical glow. It also felt as if a sudden chill was in the air, giving an isolated feeling from the outside world to the inside of the laboratory.

"Our labs are kept cool to prevent any components from overheating. We have many high caliber motors that have to stay cool and the technicians prefer the lower lighting to the bright florescence." Kuttler explained before the question could be asked. Room after room it looked much the same to Oliver. Blue, red, and green led flashes occasionally flickering along equipment that ran through the walls, almost as if it were a live vein in the building.

It was a clean area and the general atmosphere held no blatant caginess, but something just wasn't sitting right.

Oliver could feel a slight sweat starting at the base of his skull, the déjà vu creating a nauseous roll to his stomach. He clutched his hands around the ends of his jacket, feeling the bottle his doctor had just given him and with a slight pause he decided now was as good a time as any to see if was effective. If he needed to keep his cool at any time, it was now.

He couldn't miss this and he was sick of letting his body's unexplainable reaction control his life lately.

"—test are showing a positive reaction to cross platform jumps at a smaller lever so we're excited to begin t—"

Oliver was just catching the last bit of Kuttler's speech when he caught his dad's attention. He needed to start being more alert.

"Oliver is something wrong?" Robert questioned him, a slight tilt to his head.

Oliver was quick to reassure him, this was something he was not going to miss. "No, I just need a second," he said with a head tilt towards the beginning of the hallway. Robert nodded with a quick, "very well," and Oliver walked off.

The soft murmur disappeared from behind him as he slipped into the men's restroom, pulling the bottle from his leathers and palming the lid off. He grabbed a complementary water bottle and chased the small pill down, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his nerves. He didn't know why he was having such a response while he was working but he needed to be in control.

Oliver took another dash of water from the bottle and when that washed down his throat it felt as if the cooling water was chilling his nerves behind it. It seemed that whatever the doctor had given him it was fast acting. And for once Oliver was glad for that. He would have to look up what the guy gave him later and make sure it didn't have any outrageous side effects.

With a quick breath he re-settled himself and set out, pushing the door open lightly with his shoulder and pausing as he caught a rapid flash out of the corner of his eye. When he turned more fully he could see it again, and after letting his eyes adjust to the sever darkness he noticed in the shadows that it was a light bouncing against a door he hadn't noticed was there when they first walked in. That normally wouldn't raise any question to anyone else, but just by looking at the setup of the building and the almost total absence of doors, it was curious to see one hidden behind a shadow and wall.

Someone didn't want to bring a lot of attention to it.

With his curiosity peaked he turned and looked over his shoulder, seeing his dad and Kuttler with their backs to him and getting further as they talked about who knows what.

With the risk determined he grabbed the door he was leaning against and lightly closed it, slipping along the darkened hallway and making his way steadily into the engulfing shadows, looking over his shoulder every second or two to make sure his father was still distracted with the director. It was eerie walking towards the door, the flickering LED's seeming to flash faster and casting a strobe of blue around him.

When the door was finally within his full sight he set for it swiftly, wasting no time. He knew his father would be keeping an eye out for him soon and he didn't want him to suspect he was up to something.

He would never get the catch on him if that happened.

Oliver noticed immediately that the door didn't have the same knobs as the others in the building, and the plaited iron looked out of place in a space with so many wires and fiberglass.

It was a strange door to have in such a hidden area and he couldn't imagine what would be the purpose of it. It could be for the servers, Kuttler did say they got hot.

He slid up to the door and rested the back of his hand along it. He didn't know what he was expecting to feel, but the coolness failed to surprise him. It could mean nothing but he wanted to have a better look.

As he slid his hand along the smooth surface he realized his first problem was this was an automatic door, which meant that he wasn't going to get in there without Kuttler, and he had no doubt that he wouldn't be getting a tour in there. He looked to the left of the door and saw the small slit in the wall for a key card and filed that into the back of his mind.

It wouldn't do him any good to hang around an entry way he couldn't get through today, and so with the information catalogued and his curiosity sated he checked his surroundings and crept back to the group, slowing his pace just as Robert turned and nodded at him as he re-joined him.

"Director Kuttler was just telling me of the positive results they were having with an Overwatch simulation and it can cross jump platforms on a small scale so far." Robert filled Oliver in, and finally he felt that small flutter of excitement his father was showing earlier.

"Wow, that quick? When do we move to the next phase?" He asked with some speculation, unsure of the science behind this but knowing just enough of the basics to understand how the jump was theoretical and to see if happen on a small scale elicited some excitement.

"We plan to continue moving at a steady pace. Once we are ready to increase the output on Overwatch then we can start to see where it gets buggy." Kuttler explained with a knowledge of the machine that made Oliver think he was one of the main designers on the project too. He was impressed by the man, knowing he wasn't just the standard lip work that many Directors were.

"Well that sounds exciting," Oliver congratulated to the man, seeing how proud of his work he was.

Kuttler nodded and corralled them to another part of the building, introducing them to the developers and scientist.

And as the tour continued and the technology was flaunted to Robert Queen and Oliver, he began to find himself back in the comfortable groove of things and wondered briefly where his unease had ever come from.

* * *

The family affair was actually going great for a change.

Thea, Oliver, Moria and Robert Queen were all gathered around the grand table, their wait staff bringing brightly colored meals and decadent drinks to them while Robert jovially explained to his wife the newest strides they were making.

It was a scene that Oliver hadn't seen in a long time, and though it was one that was happening now, the undercurrent of the family rift was ever present.

Thea was moving her food from one side of the plate to the other, looking at their mother from the corner of her eye while said woman just smiled at her husband in ignorance. The ignorance was feigned of course and everyone at the table knew that.

Teenage angst, his mother would criticize.

As far as great went, this was as good as it could get.

"Oliver, you're doing great. You've made an impressive recovery in the office as well." Robert praised unexpectedly. Nodding towards the quiet man and smiling in pride.

Oliver looked up in surprise before quickly schooling his features. He didn't mean to seem so shocked, it just wasn't what he was expecting to hear from the older Queen. If anything he was waiting for the reprimand from riding in on his motorcycle.

"Clearly you're feeling well enough to ride that barbaric vehicle," Robert added with a chuckle, never one to disappoint.

Oliver smirked at his dad. "Hey old man, I've got to keep up."

Robert laughed at his son wholeheartedly. To anyone watching they were the proverbial family. Sound to the core but not without their faults.

An example to all.

"Thea how is school going?" Moria asked to her sullen daughter.

Thea looked up from her plate and over to Oliver before she slid her eyes to her mother, smiling a bland disinterested smile. "Great, thanks."

The argument between the two of them was always the same and this was only the prologue to the main act. Oliver felt his head begin the warning throb and wondered if it was from the fight he could see unfolding in front of him or if it was time for him to try the doctor's pill out again.

"Oliver, honey, are you okay?" The concerned sound of Moria chimed from his side, her hand coming to rest gently on his arm.

Oliver smiled at his mother, reaching up to pat her hand.

"I'm okay Mom. Just a headache." He assured her kindly, noting the concern he saw on her face. His mother's love for both of her children ran deep, and it was a tenacious love that the best wouldn't go against.

"What about that new medicine the doctor gave you?" She asked with her head tilted in worry.

"You're right," Oliver rushed to re-assure, he wasn't surprised that his mother already knew of the new prescription, "I left them in my jacket but I was just thinking about getting them."

"If you need them you should take them."

His dad again surprised him that day as he was the one who spoke up rather than Moria, a hard concern on his face.

' _Odd_ ,' Oliver thought considerably, not so much his father's concern on the matter, but the firmness in the tone.

Robert Queen was a man who always preached of having pure blood as a ruler. Going on for hours at Oliver while he partied through his high school and college years that he could only lead properly when his senses were clear. His blood clear of any intoxicants.

But in firm concerned he sat for Oliver, and it made a small bell chime in the back of his head.

"Sorry, I think I'll go take it now," he excused quickly as he rose from the chair, wanting to get away from the look his dad was giving him. He needed a quiet place to go, and he needed to get under control again.

He ignored the look his sister was giving his back while he retreated to the main hallway. Everyone in his life had an opinion on how he should live, and as much as he loved Thea she was just as opinionated as the rest of his family, and he didn't want to see the looks or hear the comments from them anymore.

He spotted his jacket draped over the chair he'd dropped it over and retrieved the plastic bottle quickly. Just as he took the medicine out and began to turn back to the dining hall he heard an electric alarm going off.

It wasn't a loud one, but it was a soft, urgent beeping.

Oliver looked at the door leading to his family and slipped the pill into his pocket. Usually the alarms on their machines were silent and to hear the constant chiming for attention he was admittedly curious. He had to see what it was first.

The hunt for the machine making the noise didn't take long to find, which was unsurprising, but Oliver could feel his curiosity peak further as he recognized where it was originating from.

He pushed the heavy wooden door to Roberts study open, seeing the a projector cube flashing an erratic red from his dad's desk, the small device having received a message.

With the noise of the dinner progressing rooms away and at his back Oliver padded silently into the dark room, reaching out and pressing the small button in the center of the tech quickly, watching it flicker to life and splash to life in light.

He felt his body freezing in place, words that were familiar to him now playing across the holographic display.

 _Don't trust them._

The noise from his family fell away as the room descended into a sudden silence, his senses heightening to the point that he could hear the blood rushing through his ears as a new type of trepidation rippled through his veins.

The screen flashed black and Oliver felt himself jump before it flashed a quick bursts of words that had him stiffing in preparation for something.

 _Don't_

 _Trust_

 _Them_

"Oliver?"

Before Oliver could even process the emotions thrumming through his body the voice of his father was like an electrical shock to the system. He spun around as if he'd been caught doing something and didn't know what his father had seen.

Did he just see the words flash on the screen? Was that just for him?

' _What is going on?!_ ' Anger licked the palms of his hands. He could do anger, it was easier to deal with.

If there was one thing Oliver hated it was this. This ominous messaging, the uneasy feeling, the accident. He didn't like any of it, and he was going to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

"Ahh, I see you are enjoying the latest stats from Applied Science." Robert said with a smile, looking over Oliver's shoulder to the opened projector. Oliver turned slowly and looked at the display, seeing exactly as his father had just said. The latest stats from the tests were rolling in and he'd assumed Oliver had been reading them.

Robert clasped Oliver on the shoulders, spinning his body to look fully at the projection of charts and numbers with graphs and sprawling lines.

"We're living the dream son." He told him proudly and Oliver could only feel a cold pit settling in his stomach. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the pill, rolling it between his thumb and breaking it in two with barley anger.

Oliver was never one for dreaming.


	4. The True Beginning

**Chapter 3: The True Beginning**

* * *

She was yanked up by her shoulders quickly, the shock from the sudden sensory change jolting all of her senses back to the present. Her eyes struggled to focus, the wires laying around her wrapping around her wrist tightly at the sudden upheaval. As she looked up from her gasping position she knew she shouldn't have when she was met with the angry face of John Diggle staring down at her.

"What do you think you're doing?!" He demanded with a small shake, almost as if he could physically shake some sense in her.

The disoriented woman looked around quickly, her now sloppy ponytail hanging loose at her neck. She glared up at him with a sway and weakened voice, "What does it look like I'm doing?"

He released her arms suddenly and she slumped forward, catching herself on her unsteady hands and feeling a small shake run up her limbs. She couldn't resist the slow downward slumping of her body to the ground, her muscles still too weak to hold her.

"We can't make irrational decisions! _You_ can't make irrational decisions!" He scolded angrily, pacing back and forth and giving the girl time to collect herself. She huffed and regained her composure, glaring back with defiant blue eyes. "We have to take our time on this," he stated while rounding on the woman again.

"We're running out of time!" She retorted angrily.

She was sure she looked like a lunatic in that moment, ponytail skewed, clothes rumpled in her fall and wires dangling around her limbs like vines from a plant. She certainly felt like a lunatic, and from the look John was giving her, he would probably agree she _was_ a lunatic.

It didn't much bother her in the moment, Felicity had been called worst names in the past.

It was a tense stare off before the bulking man slammed something hard against the table to her left, the crashing metal ringing in her already sensitive ears.

"You need to be more careful," he scolded definitively, folding his arms across his chest, "before you decide to make any more contact you had better come to me first. We can't blow our only chance."

It wasn't something Felicity was normally accused of, acting without a fully formed plan, letting her emotions get the best of her, but she was beginning to feel the sharp edge of desperation.

"We've already been compromised once, and look at where that got us," Diggle continued, motioning widely towards the shamble of a factory they were hiding in.

The memory of how they got here and all they'd lost made Felicity's heart hurt. She sat up slowly, watching as Diggle resumed his pacing, crossing his arms again in agitation. "You don't need to be messing with that _thing_ alone," he spat after a minute, looking at said machine with barely concealed disgust.

Felicity knew how much John hatted the circumstances, but it was a necessary evil. They had already exhausted all the careful measured steps, and they were none the better for doing so.

It was another half beat before she nodded softly in agreement. She smiled sheepishly up at him, and looked away, beginning to unwind the wires twisted and wrapped around her wrist.

"Then I should probably tell you what I just did."

* * *

It was a beautiful day in Starling, one that made you stop to enjoy the breeze and feel the life in the air.

Oliver was blind to it though as he marched steadily to the entrance of QC, nodding to the occasional bow and keeping his eyes forward.

It was all he could do to keep from snapping at the persistent eyes on the back of his head, always watching him.

He knew who it was, the silent bodyguard had been sliding his eyes towards him every time he thought Oliver wasn't looking. And Oliver couldn't describe it, but he just _knew_ the man was looking for something. Watching him knowingly, waiting silently. He didn't know yet if he was working with someone, but he probably was. With the intensity of his stare there was no way he wasn't involved in something bigger, someone bigger. He just hadn't decided who it was yet. Oliver didn't know if whatever was going on with his bodyguard had anything to do with office politics, or his family, but he had a feeling that figuring it out would start to answer some of his many questions.

It was just another thing to add to the list.

At the thought he felt the familiar pain zap through his head, catching himself mid-step quickly and regaining his composure.

It was a constant reminder of his newest mystery.

The bottle given to him by the doctor was now being tested by Curtis, and Oliver was almost certain it was something more sinister than he'd initial suspected. It started to add up as he counted the days from his headaches to the time he'd dumped his earlier prescriptions. The only conclusion he could lead to being some type of withdraw from whatever the doctors had given him.

It was a dangerous thought and one that enraged him on a primal level. He could feel his fists clenching at his side, his thumb coming up rub his finger.

After three days of taking not even an aspirin the headaches finally started to dial back in intensity, though the nagging feeling was persistent in his gut. He still wanted to know why they were given to him, and for what purpose?

The buzzing in his pocket pulled him from his musing, the caller ID showing Curtis' face.

Oliver looked over his shoulder, seeing Diggle's eyes ahead, but knowing he was just looking at him.

"Curtis," Oliver answered swiftly, the blast of cold air hitting him as he entered the elaborate lobby of Queen Consolidated.

"Mr. Queen!" Curtis rushed out, Oliver could tell he was flustered, "my analysis just came back from, uh, the numbers-."

"Curtis, I'm in the building we can talk about it in a second," Oliver interrupted his rambling.

"Okay great!" He huffed, knowing he'd feel better telling this to Oliver face to face. "Ms. Rochev is on the prowl." He explained, feeling twitchy in his own chair. The woman made him nervous.

Oliver took in a deep calming breath. He really didn't want to deal with her today. He wished his dad would buy her a house somewhere already and ship her there permanently.

That would ruin the Queen name, of course, so that would never happen.

But Oliver could still wish.

"That's just great," he muttered into the receiver, "I'll be up in a second." He finished, ending the call and slipping the phone back into his pocket.

He strolled up to the executive elevator and saw Diggle press the button to his right, the doors opening immediately. Oliver stepped in and watched as the bodyguard slipped in and selected the appropriate floor, taking them to the top of the building. He could see Diggle's eyes staring straight ahead in the reflection of the embellished walls.

He stared hard at the man, wearing his distrust on his face unflinchingly even as John's eyes flickered over to catch his gaze.

It was a tense stare off before Diggle gave with an unsuspecting smile and a tilt to his shoulder. Oliver's eyes flickered to the strap slung on the appendage, noticing it for the first time.

"Computer's fixed." He explained simply before turning his gaze forward again.

It agitated Oliver.

"It feels like you don't trust me Mr. Queen." Diggle spoke into the silence, never moving.

Oliver stared hard at the man, watching his body for any type of sign.

"Should I?"

Diggle smiled and looked at the numbers scrolling across the indicator screen. "You should trust yourself."

It was a cryptic response that Oliver wasn't going to let slide.

"Does it seem like I don't trust myself, Mr. Diggle?"

Oliver didn't know what response he was expecting, but the bulking man spinning suddenly and aiming the laptop bag at his head was not one of them.

With a grace he didn't know he possessed Oliver ducked and reached his arm out, twisting it around the bag and Diggle's wrist, pulling him forward and aiming his own fist towards his face.

At the last second Diggle reached out with his other hand, capturing Oliver's wrist and applying his thumb to the pressure point before twisting the appendage to the side, off balancing the man. Oliver quickly regained his balance, ducking behind Diggle in a flurry of movement and twisting his arm back with the laptop bag he still had tangled around his wrist. He shoved, none too gracefully, and pressed his face swiftly against the reflective doors, the elevator swaying with the force of their tussle.

It all happened so fast, and by the time it was finished Oliver was panting in surprise, his adrenaline rushing through his veins.

He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, his throat dry and his fingers turning cold. He wasn't feeling this way because he was scared. He wasn't, and that's what terrified him.

That was muscle memory.

A memory that he didn't have.

Oliver was so zoned out that he didn't hear the warming chime of the elevator doors until the body he had pinned against them was suddenly moving forward and spinning out of his reach.

Diggle turned slowly and looked at the stunned man standing in front of him.

"I'd say by the shock on your face you don't know yourself." He stated, and Oliver could catch the double meaning to his words. He could feel his own slack shocked face looking at John, his hand still extended when the elevator chimed in warning.

Oliver shook himself, composing his suit quickly, and stepped up dangerously to the bodyguard. His glare was hard and unwavering, his body tense and ready fight.

"And what makes you think I would trust you now?" He threatened darkly.

Diggle held his hands up with a small wave and half step back, "I meant no disrespect, Mr. Queen."

"It's Oliver!" He snapped, and for the briefest of moments a fuchsia smile burned through his mind, followed quickly by the desperate blue eyes of his nightmare before it was gone.

Oliver gave a chocking gasp and took a step away from Diggle, ignoring the flash of concern that darted across his face.

Why would he be concerned for him? He just attacked him in the damn elevator!

"Oliver are you okay?" Diggle asked, stepping closer and hopefully blocking anyone's view of him. This was dangerous and making Diggle nervous, the whole senate was up here and anyone could stumble—

"Mr. Queen?" A voce from behind Diggle made him freeze up, his body tensing in preparation for anything.

This was exactly was he was afraid of.

Luckily, it seemed as if Oliver had enough sense to know that Ms. Isabel Rochev was still bad news.

"Is something wrong?" She probed sharply, an eyebrow arched in warning.

Oliver straightened and smiled tightly at the woman, taking a deep breath to get his heart under control.

"Ms. Rochev. How nice to see you." It wasn't and he couldn't make his face pretend it was either.

She cocked her head in mockery, a small smirk lining her lips.

"Mr. Queen, you seem like you feel unwell today?" She asked, watching him closely.

"I hate to disappoint, Ms. Rochev, I'm feeling fine though." Oliver bit out. He wasn't going to give this woman the satisfaction of running to Robert with anything.

Isabel smirked and sauntered her way up to him, stopping just a breath from his chest and reached around suggestively, pressing the button behind his back. The doors swished open from behind him. "I do hope you feel better soon Oliver," she parted with, a finger trailing along his chest that made his skin crawl in its wake.

As the doors closed and began their decent Oliver felt like he could finally breathe again.

He looked at the man still standing before him, his stare serious.

"In my office," Oliver pointed at Diggle angrily and walked past him, seeing the confused look on Curtis' face from his desk down the hall.

For the first time since exiting the elevator Oliver looked around and saw just how many people were roaming the halls. He hoped no one saw any of the exchange, but especially the grand exit his bodyguard made courtesy of him.

There was a lot of explaining to do, and this was quickly becoming a very interesting morning.

Curtis stood from his desk and rushed over, meeting Oliver halfway and walking with him down the hall, keeping his voice low and speaking quickly, "I was running my tests on the medication and discovered two things really quickly, the first was that all the pills were the same compound, it didn't matter if they were a jelly or powder, they were all the same—varying dosages, but still the same chemical makeup." Oliver flicked his eyes to Diggle, seeing the man walking calmly just a couple of paces behind them. Curtis continued without a breath, rolling his hands unconsciously as he spoke, "and the second thing I found was that whatever they were giving you has never been approved by any drug agency and wasn't recognized in their system."

Oliver didn't know how he was supposed to feel, realizing that everything going on around him really _was_ a lie. It wasn't like he was surprised, he just felt so confused in the midst of it all with his half-truths and spotty recollection that he didn't know what he should be focusing on. There were still too many variables on the table, and he was suddenly apprehensive of what his next move should be.

As they rounded the corner into Oliver's cabin, Curtis was still speaking, "So I ran an analysis on the drug and get this, it came back with large traces of histidine—which in theory is a protein that can attach to the brain cells that record memories. It's only been talked about, but if you could weaponized that you could potentially control anyone, erase anything, and create the ultimate weapon!"

Oliver chanced a look back to see if the ever stoic John Diggle had heard what Curtis was saying, though from all outward appearances it seemed he hadn't.

Oliver knew better than to overlook him though. He still wasn't sure where his place was in all this.

He glanced at Curtis and leaned forward, lowering his voice so only the assistant could hear him, "If I stopped taking them could I regain my memory?"

Curtis grimaced and looked away, "I'm not so sure on that," he started slowly, "the drug effects the DNA of the brain, if it runs its course, so to speak, there's no guarantee that after the withdraw you regain anything. Not only that, but Oliver, this was all in theory, to know that you've been given these is a big deal!" He muttered angrily and Oliver stared blankly at the man.

"I am well aware of that." He said shortly and Curtis jerked away, rubbing the back of his head, "right, sorry, this is strangely exciting. Is that bad? I'm going to stop talking now. I'll run some more test and see if I can send this off to a friend for an antidote."

Oliver raised his hand, stopping him for going into another tangent, "This needs to be as contained as possible."

Curtis nodded at the warning, "I know, but I don't know medicine Oliver, I can't make you an antibiotic. I'm not that super."

Oliver took a deep breath and nodded.

"I trust you Curtis." The words reminded him of an earlier conversation, his eyes seeking out the quiet man in the corner.

Diggle stepped forward, holding the disjointed strap of the laptop bag up and out towards him in a peace offering.

"Oh wow!" It was Curtis that stepped up and took the bag from Diggle, "what happened to this?" he asked after securing it and struggling with the bent clasp for a moment.

"It got caught in the elevator door." Diggle answered after a silence that stretched too long and took the truth from his words.

"Okay," Curtis drew out as he finally freed and laptop and turned it over to inspect it for any damage and then on, admiring how it was remarkably untouched.

He turned and handed it to Oliver, who took it from him and walked towards his desk. Project Overwatch was flashing on the side of the tablet on his desk and he minimized the tab. While everyone these days preferred the tablets, he still preferred the old keys of a laptop.

As Diggle turned to leave Oliver called out to him, "Did you find out who hacked me?"

He stopped and turned back towards Oliver, shaking his head, "Unfortunately we were unable to trace it back to anyone. It was thoroughly scrubbed and reinforced with stronger firewalls. I have a feeling you won't be hacked again."

He seemed a little too sure about that to Oliver.

Oliver shifted his eyes to Curtis, silently asking him for the room. With a quick nod and snagging the empty bag Curtis made his way towards the door, Diggle's eye following his retreat. "I'll get this…fixed," he told Oliver as he closed the door, staring at the indention on the bag and thinking twice about the excuse Diggle gave for its damage.

The soft click of the door made the air thick as Oliver stared at Diggle unflinchingly.

"And will what happened in the elevator happen again?" He asked into the silence, raising his brow at the small smirk Diggle gave him.

"Well, I can't make any guarantees."

Oliver didn't know if he liked that answer, but oddly enough it lessened his suspicion of the man. Maybe it was the truthfulness in his words or his ability to lash out at him and still have a civil conversation in the same breath. Whatever it was, it started leading Oliver to believe there was something more to their relationship. He didn't think Diggle was just a simple bodyguard.

It would explain the way he watched him, as if looking for something. Oliver was beginning to think Diggle was looking for the same thing he was. His memories. Or at least the person he was with them.

The only thing Oliver remembered about the bodyguard was he was hired for his mom, and under her request would follow him from time to time. Then the void was there and he couldn't remember, but when he woke up Diggle worked only for him. He couldn't even remember when that happened.

Diggle had to know what was going on then.

That didn't explain why he wouldn't just tell him though. It seemed the distrust was mutual then.

But Oliver didn't know why Diggle would distrust him. Why he would withhold something so important to him.

A flash in the corner of his eye drew his gaze down to the tablet he had just put in sleep mode. At this point Oliver found himself equal parts of surprised and suspicious as he saw the familiar alert for a new message flickering erratically. He didn't know how he knew it was from the ominously timed hacker, but he knew even before he opened the message, only mild hesitation filling him as he saw the contents.

 _Ask him about Oracle_

Oliver didn't know why he would listen to anything his stocker technology would ask of him, but he found himself willing to give it a try, his eyes sliding to the man standing in front of him. He was ready to stare the questions down.

"What's Oracle?" He asked suddenly, his question clearly surprising Diggle before he saw his eyes flicker to the tablet on his desk and sudden understanding and then irritation flash in rapid succession across his face.

"Sorry man, I don't know," Diggle tried to supply.

' _Yeah, I don't think so,_ ' Oliver thought. There was more to that reaction, and for him to play ignorant was just irritating.

Oliver placed both his hands on the table, slowly sinking into the chair behind him, arching a brow at the stoic man before him.

"You want me to trust you," he began, "and yet you lie to me." It was more of an observation than accusation and they both knew it.

Diggle was serious, his face watching Oliver closely.

"It's for your safety." He finally supplied, the words measured.

Oliver scowled, echoing the sentiment back in mockery, "For my safety?"

Diggle nodded slowly, his sharp eye keeping watch on Oliver. "It might not come as a surprise that there's a lot going on, and things have already gone bad for us once. If we don't handle this carefully then it could get even worse. We're protecting you, and in turn it protects the others."

"Others?" Oliver echoed sharply, his mind racing with the possibilities, with wonder of how big this was and how deep it ran.

Diggle just stared at him in silence, and Oliver could feel his anger rising.

He stood up quickly and slammed his hands on the table, sick of everyone around him playing games with his life.

"I don't much appreciate this crusade for my life going on behind my back and without my knowledge. It's already bad enough to know that my memory gone and to think that it could be purposely withheld from me? Did you have anything to do with that Mr. Diggle?" He asked lowly, feeling the bite of ice to his words. He didn't know where this animosity was coming from, such unchecked rage, but he knew he could go even darker if he had to. It was a startling revelation in the many things he was learning about himself.

Diggle shook his head sharply, his eyes hard and unwavering as they clashed with Oliver's. It was something Oliver noted, how he wasn't scared of him.

"No." Diggle denied, "And if you would trust me I might have something that could help with that."

Oliver cocked his head to the side, feeling his rage wane at the new turn. "Help me with what?" He probed, still trying to figure out what angle Diggle was playing at.

"Get off whatever meds they've been pumping you with."

Oliver sat down again, his anger gone and his curiosity peaked.

"Why?" He counter asked.

Diggle grunted in frustration and threw his hands up, sitting down in the chair before Oliver's desk and and imploring him to understand. "I really can't tell you until after you take it. I know that sounds suspicious and bad, but we have our reasons. One of them being, if you don't regain your memory from before then it would be safer to never have. If this doesn't work then it could cost you your life, and a lot of innocent people"

"Innocent people?" He echoed. He knew there was something going on around him, an undercurrent he couldn't catch, but he never imagined it would be something as dramatic as this—innocent people, his life. It wasn't his he was so concerned with, it was always on the line to some degree, being a Queen, but the way Diggle was saying it implied more danger. Something in the works was already going on, and for him to know it could cost him his life? What had he gotten himself into? _When_ did he get into it? It was obviously during the spots in his memory but now more than ever he was feeling the urgency to know what the hell he was forgetting.

He looked at Diggle with a new burning determination in his eyes. It didn't matter what it would cost him at this point. It didn't matter if he needed to knock every door down to find it, he was going to figure out what was going on. And regardless of what Diggle said about his safety he was going to re-discover it even if he never got his memory back. There was a reason it was withheld from him and that was reason enough for Oliver to get it back, or die trying.

Oliver chucked and held his hand out towards the bodyguard, "Well Mr. Diggle, it seems I have nothing left to do but trust you."

Diggle clasped his outstretched hand firmly, shaking it strongly.

"Just Dig." He replied, and Oliver could feel himself trusting the man a little more. He didn't know why he would, but his gut feelings hadn't led him wrong yet and he wasn't about to start doubting it now.

Oliver finally let himself relax a bit, smiling at the man and reaching over to page Curtis back in the room.

Once Curtis has scurried back in Oliver motioned him towards Diggle.

"Curtis, Diggle here is going to assist us." He explained to the assistant, "You can give him any information on the medication you were testing and see if he can help you come up with a solution." Curtis nodded as Oliver spoke, his face serious and eyes skirting to the larger man in question.

"Do you know anything about medicine?" Curtis asked Diggle in curiosity. He was in the body protection business so he hadn't assumed he knew much.

Diggle smirked slowly, raising an eyebrow towards Oliver, "Yeah you could say I know a thing or two. If its what I think it might be, we already have a solution"

Oliver tried not to get too excited, but the thought of getting this wretched drug out of his system faster than he first thought—assuming he wasn't poisoned in the process—made him ready to do what it took now.

"Oliver there is one thing you need to know," Diggle cut in suddenly, sobering the mood. "The counter drug we're giving you is ancient, predating the Darhk Dynasty, and it's not pleasant. This wont be an easy experience."

Oliver paused on the sentiment, looking off to the the wide glass windows that covered the entirety of a wall, allowing him an unobstructed view of Starling. He felt like he was in an ivory tower already, and he'd been trying to knock it down since he arrived back. If not for himself, than for the people of Starling. It might not be an easy experience but it was something worth fighting for. And if it was worth fighting for it would never be easy, he'd learned that lesson at a young age and it was one lesson he was grateful for.

"This isn't easy," he told Diggle, frustrated that everyone seemed to think his life was the easiest thing already.

"Alight then." Diggle conceded easily, nodding to himself. "I can drive you to our location tonight if you're ready."

Oliver shook his head, "If its alright with you I'd rather drive myself."

Diggle smirked and nodded softly. "I'll text you the address," he told him, stepping away from the desk and shaking Curtis' hand. "Welcome to the team." He said cryptically with a small secretive smile. "I'll be heading out then."

Before Diggle could close the door behind him he looked over his should to Oliver, a serious expression on his face.

"I hope you're ready Oliver."

The swish of the closing door sealed the room in silence again and Curtis looked over at his boss, not knowing what he should do in this situation. Sure, he'd been helping Oliver out with looking up some pretty shady stuff, but this just got a whole lot deeper and he wasn't entirely sure what the protocol here was.

"Are you ready?" He chose to ask instead, not knowing where to pick up the conversation.

Oliver stared blankly ahead before sighing deeply and looking back down at the tablet sitting on his desk, the previous message and all trace of it gone. He didn't know what was going on with the technology around him, but it was definitely from the same person, that much was clear. Its odd timing and willingness to be seen with Diggle also led him to believe that it was someone from his 'we' he was talking about earlier. Oliver didn't know why he'd asked the question without any hesitation either.

All of it gave him an entirely different kind of headache.

' _What the hell is Oracle?_ ''

"Would you like a coffee?"

"What?" Oliver asked, confused by the sudden question.

"Well, you know, to get ready for work…"Curtis trailed on, feeling a little out of step with the brooding man.

"Oh right, work." Oliver huffed, looking around the suit and collecting his thoughts. It really had ended up being one hell of a morning, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to wrap his head around it all while trying to keep things at QC running smoothly. "Yes, coffee please Curtis," Oliver muttered, running a hand over his face and hearing Curtis scurrying out the room.

He groaned to himself and sat heavily in his chair, the air whooshing around him.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath.

This was going to be a long day.

' _Who do I know that wears fuchsia lipstick?_ ' The thought fluttered through his mind before Curtis was walking back in, bringing with him a hot coffee and the reports coming in for the upcoming launch of Overwatch.

And hours later as Oliver was listening to another senate member drone on to him about money endeavors he couldn't help but wonder again who the bright shade could possibly belong to.


End file.
